


Snow Angels

by Quinquangularist



Series: The Chronicles of Makara [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, M/M, Short, Snow, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:15:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinquangularist/pseuds/Quinquangularist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headcanon: highbloods can't go out in cold weather because they're prone to hypothermia but Gamzee really loves snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet.  
> Unbeta'ed of course. Please let me know if there are typos.

Bitter silver frost shimmers on the window pane in the morning. You grin at his childlike excitement borne of the fact that this world has snow and that it's beautiful and white and fluffy.  
He struggles into a jumper that's yours and therefor far too big for him, pulls on a pair of heavy boots, clambers down the rickety wooden stairs and tumbles out the front door with a bang. (You don't follow him because your legs will rust out there and it's painfully obvious that Equius has gotten pretty sick of you and your never-ending string of problems.)  
The thing is though, snow tends to be cold, and he just wasn't made for the cold, especially now when he's only got a jumper and pyjama pants on and you can see him shivering as he shoves twigs into what appears to be a lopsided snow-hedgehog.  
Love and pity pull at your heart and you hate the fact that he can't enjoy the cold like you can, hate that he has to be taken such thorough care of, that he can't just run around and frolic in the glittering winter like you know he wants to.  
He tries so hard though, and you help as subtly as you can.  
You bring him layers of clothing and a warm coat, you supply him with mug after mug of tea and hot chocolate and warm milk but he just will not stop shaking as his chilled indigo blood prevents him from retaining any heat.  
The worst part is that he really loves the cold weather, even though he can't seem to stay out in it for more than forty seconds without his fingers turning blue and shaky.  
You pull a hat over his head nonetheless, tearing holes to fit his horns through and manoeuvring the daft, striped, wooly thing so that his ears are covered.  
The temptation to hug him is just too strong and you end up with a struggling, frozen highblood in your arms, bundled up in swathes of fabric so that he looks twice his usual size.  
Unruly raven locks overflow from their knitted covering and bounce joyfully as he flings himself out of your embrace and into the freezing white powder with gusto.  
You eventually tempt him inside with the promise of an attempt at hot faygo and a human Disney movie. You remove layer after layer of scarves, sweaters, jackets, coats and woollen… somethings that Rose made until he's back to the poor old stretched grey jumper and snow-caked cotton pants that he started off with. They go too, and you wrap him in a warm quilt and one of your smaller pyjama shirts.  
You hold him tight as he shakes. Yawns. Blinks blearily. Beams at you.  
You force a grin, trying desperately to hide your worry.  
He rests thawing curls on your chest and murmurs something about you being 'the best blanket' before you melt like the snow on his (your) clothes.  
The fire crackles with contentment as you curl up on the battered old couch, trying to will your little companion into warmth.  
Cruella Deville (who, ironically enough, reminds you of a certain Miss Serket) is shrieking at her incompetent henchmen and he's snuffling gently against you, fast asleep and finally at a satisfactory temperature. You'll have to either keep him inside tomorrow or tie hot water bottles to his torso and limbs. Brow furrowed, you silently hope he doesn't get sick and end up carrying him to bed, stairs and legs creaking in terrible, earache-inducing harmony.


End file.
